Falling Snow
by AaronTheRedRider22
Summary: Chaos rains down upon the divided realm of Westeros as the summer ends, winter begins, and the struggle for the Iron Throne rages on. A dead prince ravages the south, the north sucumbs to war, and dragons roam the skies of Westeros once more. The game begins again but who will sit the Iron Throne, who will win and who will die? This is my best attempt to complete the ASOIAF, ENJOY!
1. Chapter 1

**The Song of Ice and Fire: Falling Snow**

By: AaronTheRedRider22

* * *

**Prologue**

"_Dead!" _

The raven squawked as it flapped its wings and took flight into the gray pitch sky.

"_Dead!" _

The raven squawked the word over and over as it circled over the rivers and the trees.

"_Dead!" _

Its beady black eyes were focused on the river bank where hundreds of creatures had gathered. They were covered by the blankets of white snow and green pines. The raven squawked once more but it folded its wings and aimed itself down. The black feathered beast drove down past the pines and opened its hideous wings and took flight amongst the legions of creatures.

The raven began to search once again. Its eyes darting back and forth from one creature to the next, but none resembled the creature whose shoulder he enjoyed so very much. The creature was a young man, a very stubborn but kind man, who had always offered him food from his hands.

"Snow!" The raven squawked as he took his place amongst the tree's and began to look at each face until he found the man. The raven was puzzled by how many had come to the river. The raven had seen men creatures before, big and hairy beasts, but never in his life did he see so many pretty things.

The men had called them many things.

"_Ugly"_

"_Bitch"_

"_Spear"_

"_Whore-Whore" _that name was spoken a lot, but names are wind. Names mean nothing to the ears of a beast. All that had mattered to the raven was action. The raven's man was more than a man. He was a wolf, an honourable wolf, whom he derailed missed and had to fine. But his efforts were begging to prove pointless. There were only men and whores about the river bank and trees. No one was there not even his man's fat friend.

"_Snow!"_ The raven called out as he glided through the air until he came to a branch and stopped. Its legs grasped the edge of branched, perched high in the trees.

"_Snow!"_ The raven squawked as he looked down at the horde. The raven felt sick, and tired, as he looked at the face of every man wearing his colors.

They were neither crows nor men amongst the horde, they were cowards in black feathers, and the raven remembered them all for what they truly were. Fools who feared the change of day and the coming of night, they were unworthy.

Unworthy of their colours.

Unworthy of their names.

Unworthy of life.

Only two were ever truly worthy of the raven's colors.

The Bear and the Wolf and now the bear was dead, lying in the snow, his corpse lying among his fallen brothers.

"_Dead!" _The raven squawked as hoped towards the edge of the branch and cast his gaze down upon the crowd as they began to put themselves into two columns. There were organized now. All of them moving to the side as if a force of wind forced itself in-between them, but before long the raven saw what truly parted them

There seven of them.

In the front were three brothers, one who was old, empty of life and had hardened skin. His eyes were as black as the darkness and his long black hair had a long strains of white with white and silver. He was an old man with a horrible scowl and face. The raven did not like him but his eyes looked tasty.

The two following him were his brothers, old men, with grey and white beards. One had a mauled face, a face bitten by steel now doubt, while the other man had a face mauled by the winter. He was shorter than the other two and was missing an ear and his nose had turned purple.

Those were ugly men.

Behind them marched two more, one was a man one as a whore, the man old the whore young.

The old man was broad of shoulder and chest. His arms thick of muscle and his wrists were wrapped by golden bands that the raven loved. His hair was white, his beard long, and like his body his face was broad as well.

The whore was easier to look upon. It was very beautiful compared to most. Its hair was the same color as the olds man's golden braces. It was loose and draped across her shoulders.

A closer look at the woman gave the raven a small shutter and filled him with fear. It was her eyes that had frightened him, they were neither grey nor black, they were blue. It was a blue so deep that it reminded the beast of ice.

"_Snow!"_ The raven squawked as he watched three more walked down the column, two were big, one was small. Standing in the front was the ugliest beast the raven had ever seen among the whores. It was tall, thin, and it had the ears of a fox, both round and flushed with red. The whore also had eyes that were a deep pale and it had a sharp nose in-between them and just below that was a patch of hair. It was growing just above the whore's lips.

The raven also took note of the whore's fiery red rock. It was an odd shape and it had been placed its head. It appeared to be frozen fire and it was glimmering with red and orange, the colors of the men's fire. The raven took note of the two whores who came after the ugly whore. The taller, prettier one was walking to the ugly one's left and was just three steps behind her.

The raven took note that this beauty had been kissed by flame. Again the raven squawked in approval of the creature's tremendous beauty. The whore had long hair the color of burnished copper and pale, skin untouched by winter or snow, and it was all supported by its heart shaped face. The whore was also very small, compared to the others, and it walked with a certain grace that the raven had never seen before in his long life.

Finally the raven's gaze had been cast down upon the last creature walking to the ugly whores right. It was a small thing, a petty thing, with a black cloak covering its face. The thing was a child and that child had no defining features to speak of or share. Upon seeing this child did the raven noticed that all whores and men were wearing black.

Black.

It was the color of brothers and forgotten men, and only men on the wall wore the colors of crows and ravens.

Why?

The question had been repeated many times in the raven's head as hopped up and down the branch, looking for his man.

Moments later the raven took note of more creatures walking down the column.

There were too many to count but they were all carrying something.

It was big, hollow, and something was inside of it.

"_Snow!" _The raven squawked as it opened its wings and dove towards the man lying in the hollowed out log.

The raven landed on his man's chest squawking as loud as he could. The raven wanted to see his man open his eyes and yell at him like he did before.

But his eyes did not open.

"_Snow!"_ The raven squawked again.

"_Snow!"_

"_Snow!"_

The raven's man did not wake or stir in his sleep, he remained still, while his brothers carried him off towards the river.

The raven began to pick at the boy's hands, his beak piercing his man's black leather gloves, but nothing happened the man did not wake or stir.

"_Snow!" _The raven squawked as the hollowed out log was placed in the river and he was brushed away by a simpleton in black. The raven had to fly away and sit upon a branch once more. The raven squawked and hopped along the branch as he looked down at his man, who was still lying motionless in the hollowed out log.

The man looked peaceful, it was a face that the raven had never seen before, and he was still wearing his black garments, gloves, boots, and cloak. Draped across his arms was a black banner, with no sign engraved upon it, and below the raven could see his mans steel claw.

The steel claw was wrapped and bound in its leather case and it was resting on the man's chest and his hands were wrapped around the steel claws end, with the white wolf staring into the grey sky.

The raven took flight once more and began to circle the hollowed out log and watched hundreds of men and whores approach the boat. Each had placed a flower, a stick of straw inside the hollow log and the raven noticed the tears drops falling in as well. Before long, the hollow log was filled with the stick, flowers and tears of every man and whore in the legion.

The Raven's man looked peaceful amongst the branch's and flowers; he did not stir nor awake from his endless sleep. His chest did not move when he breathed and his face did not twitch when he slept.

The man was no longer there, he was lifeless.

He was…

"_Dead!"_

The raven could feel the air grow colder and heavier with the rising wind.

Finally, at the end of all the three whores appeared each approach the boat and one by one they knelt before the lifeless man and uttered a prayer.

The ugly one was first; she approached the hollow log and simply looked down at the man. She did not cry nor did she mourn she just glared at the man and for a time the raven believed that the ugly whore would do something to desecrate the corpse.

But the raven was wrong as he watched the whore drop a flower into the man's log.

The second one to approach the corpse was the little one. As she walked her knee's and legs would tremble and she almost fell when she kneeled in front of the log. The raven thought he heard the little whore say something, but he was wrong. The child simply dropped a flower into the boat and walked away from the dead man in a brisk pace.

The last one to approach the boat was the creature who had been touched by fire. She slowly approached the boat with her legs carrying her across the snow. The raven took note of the fiery whore's feathers. Unlike the rest of the whores and men this one was wearing red instead of black.

"_Dead!" _The raven screamed as he watched the fiery one knee in the snow.

The raven could see the fiery one's lips moving, whispering to the dead, and the raven was too far away to hear the words it was whispering. In the end the fiery whore bowed her head and rose and then it leaned into the log and placed its lips on the dead mans cold ones.

It was a queer sight to behold but everything men and whores did were queer. The world of men was a strange one, a stupid one, and all these men and whores were foolish of all.

They all know what they face.

Everyone saw what the raven see's everyday.

Winter is coming and it only brings death.

None of them are prepared for it.

The world of men is far too distracted and obsessed with their games but not Snow.

"_Snow!"_

"_Snow!"_

The raven's man had no love for the games of man. He only wanted to do his duty and guard the realms of men and his brothers, but now the snow had no brothers. The snow was gone and the raven mourned for his loss.

A deadly silence still lingered in the air until the raven watched the thorn step out from amongst the crowd and took his place in-between the two columns of men and whores.

"Today we have come together to honor the memory of our Lord Commander, a bastard of Winterfell, a turn-cloak, and a traitor's son" the thorn spoke with the voice of a vengeful man, a man with hatred buried beneath his black cloak. The raven knew this man to hard, bitter, and stubborn. He had always hated snow and it was obvious that death did not change that.

"He was a brother and like me I know many of you will miss him" a lie the raven told himself as he squawked.

"But his actions have brought destruction and chaos upon our Order, he brought shame to our Oaths, and he betrayed us. He betrayed his sworn brothers in the name of greed, lust, and power" the thorn was a liar; the raven will always remember the black thorn to be a liar.

"The commander is dead and with that death peace has returned to the wall, and we will not squander that peace" the black thorn slowly turned and knelt before the log and the dead man. The black thorn slowly drew his blade and drove its pointed tip through the snow and leaned upon it as he spoke.

"In the name of Tommen of the House Baratheon, the first of his name King of the Andals And the First men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm" the raven began to squawk and scream in protest to the black thorn's words.

"I, Alliser Thorne, the nine-hundredth and ninety-nine Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, strip you of all you were and ever will be" a smirk crept across the black thorn's lips as he said those words. It was only then did the raven acquire a hunger for that thorn's eye; they were round and juicy and would fill the bird's stomach and keep it quiet for days. However, caution had out weight the beast's anger and hunger. So the raven silenced his anger and simply kept his distance as he watched the liar continue with his speech.

"Jon Snow, I excommunicate you from the Night's Watch. Your name will be stripped from our history, your deeds forgotten, and your name shall forever remain a curse upon the wall" the thorn rose to his feet and sheathed his sword.

"May the father above judge you justly and plunge you into the deepest of hells" with a mighty push of his leg the Lord Commander pushed Jon and his follow log out into the river and watched it slowly drift away. The raven felt the urge to fly out and meet with Jon and try to wake him from his sleep, but the bird was no fool, the raven remained in his tree and watched the new commander shout an order.

In half a heart beat two black brothers rushed out to meet their commander, one carried a torch and the other carried a black bow and quiver of arrows tied with goose feathers.

The commander took his bow and quickly notched an arrow and plunged its steel tip into torch light. The arrow caught the fire and in the blink of an eye the commander's string was pulled and then loosed. The flaming arrow arched into the sky and came crashing down into the river water.

"Again!" The commander shouted as a steward gave him another arrow. The black thorn grabbed the arrow, notched it, and plunged its tip into the fire once again. The lord commander drew his string back and prepared to loose when the raven flew down and squawked "_Dead! Dead! Corn!"_

The arrow was knocked into the arrow and arched into the sky and then it plunged itself deep into the snow banks on the other side of the river.

"Fuck!" The commander swore as his stewards gave him another arrow and helped him light its tip. Soon the black thorn had released three more arrows until he had finally hit the hollowed log. In seconds the log was set ablaze and an evil smile appeared on the black thorns face.

As the raven watched the fire vanished behind the tree's that surrounded the river, and it was only then that the raven felt something inside of him break.

"_Winter is here_!" The raven squawked as fear squeeze his chest.

"_Winter is here!" _

"_The cold will swallow us!"_

"_The dead will kill us!"_

"_The Others have come!"_

"_Hope is lost! Hope is lost!"_

The madness of speech had overwhelmed the raven until it could remember that it was not a raven but a man, a broken man, who was buried deep beneath the earth with roots clutching at his body and soul to the tree above. In half a heartbeat the Three-Eyed-Crow opened his red eye and cast his gaze into the darkness that was all around him.

The darkness had always been a friend to the Three-Eyed-Crow. It was the one thing that sheltered him from the madness of the world above but now it would seem that he could no longer hide from the madness. The madness was coming to him now, deep in his burrow, and there was no way he could hide from it. Soon the crow would need to face the world again and he would either do that as a man or a beast.

Slowly the Three-Eyed Crow turned its head and cast its gaze down upon the broken boy that sat beside him.

'_He is broken too'_ the last greenseer whispered as he watched the young wolf dream his greendreams.

'_But he isn't broken like me'_ the red eye of the last greenseer looked down at the boy and at his broken, twisted, legs.

'_He still has the strength to carry on, while as for me,'_ the Last greenseer could feel a tear forming in the corner of his red eye, it had blurred his vision, and that's when the last greenseer felt himself being drawn into the days of old.

'_I will always stay broken from the madness' _the greenseer told himself staring deep into his past. He could see it all, the wars, the death, the love, and the joy. The dreams of the past had always haunted the greenseer but today the dreams were strong, and that's when he saw them. He saw the brother he loved, the brother that he hated, and the woman that he had always desired.

The vision ended and the greenseer found himself surrounded by the darkness once again, but the crow wouldn't be fooled, this was not his darkness. The crow was trapped in another dream. A hard chill suddenly brushed across what remained of the crow's skin and that chill was suddenly followed by a deathly cold.

The crow could feel his bones turning to ice as they walked about him.

They were quiet.

They were silent.

They were beautiful.

They are death.

The Other's had surrounded the greenseer in his dream.

The Other's were all shadows of the moon above, with their milky white skin shimmering in the darkness.

Their hair was white as the snow and as soft as a maiden's kiss as it blew in the wind.

And their eyes, eyes so cold, that it made it hard for the greenseer to breath.

So many of the Other's had surrounded the greenseer, beautiful things armored in shimmering crystals of blue and white, bearing thin diamond blades colder than winter itself.

'_Ice. That's all they are. They are ice and death, that's how they appear in the eyes of man'_ the crow told himself as he watched the sun rise in the distance.

He was having the same dream again he noted.

'_How do we appear to them? Are we fire and life to the Other's?'_ the Three-eyed Crow asked himself as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky, chasing away the shadows and darkness, and just below that sun was an army of men.

The crow could see thousands of men garbed in steel and iron and they were all marching towards the darkness.

'_The song of Ice and Fire' _the greenseer mumbled as the Other's mounted their dead horses and began to march off and meet their foes on the battlefield. In his dream the greenseer was forced to watch hundreds of thousands die at the hands of the Other's and there dead.

The west is covered by ice and snow and then the crow awakes from the nightmare and is reminded of his purpose in life.

'_The game must be put to an end if we are to live. I will find another!" _The Three-Eyed Crow quickly opened his third eye and slowly gave himself to the nature and let his essence become one with nature. Such is the power of the Last Greenseer.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Song of Ice and Fire: Falling Snow**

By: AaronTheRedRider22

* * *

**The Stone Hand**

"He said he would do it and he did it!" Harry Strickland bellowed with laughter as he slammed his wine cup down upon the wooden table in the banquet hall of Storm's End.

"Aye, here's to his grace the royal prince! May he lead us to glory and honor!"Brendel Byrne laugh match that of his commander and many others gathered at Jon Connington table. The excitement was too much for the old man to bear, he had to leave and see his grace as soon as possible.

'I pray the same' the old griffin told himself as he left the serjeant of the Golden Company so they could bask in the glory of their victory over the castle, but if the truth were to be known it wasn't the castle the Golden Company had conquered it was the Stormland's they had conquered.

This castle was the heart of the Stormland's and there Storm King, and at one point had been the seat of the noble House Baratheon.

But times have changed.

The seat of House Baratheon no longer belonged to the royal stag or the lion. The castle was conquered and now it belonged to the Golden Company and its prince Aegon Targaryen, the sixth of his name, the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. If none believed it now they soon would. The prince was a dragon and he would bath the world in Fire and conquer it with blood.

As Jon left the grand hall he could feel joy and pride building inside his old heart.

The boy did more than any man could ever imagine. While others would have charged the gate the boy took to the rear and took the castle unawares. The fabled castle fell to the dragon's will and he did it with very little loose. For half a heart-beat the old knight couldn't believe he doubted his prince, but he did but the old knight was grateful he had lived to see the boy became a man.

"Your grace this is out of the question!" Jon immediately rose to his feet and looked his prince in the eye, a famous glare Young Griff had received during his childhood.

"I refuse to put your life at risk, your grace" Jon had softened his glare at Aegon and lowered his voice, so he may not offend the young prince.

"Of every man here you are the only one who matters" Jon took his seat once more and the young prince followed his example, remaining ever patience and observant as he listened to Lord Connington.

"Without you our cause, your fathers, the case will be in vain. I say again your grace; I refuse to put your life at risk!" Now Jon felt as if he was speaking to his son again. Not Aegon the prince, but Young Griff, the boy who sailed with him upon the _Shy Maid_.

"Lord Connington," the prince speaking with the calm domineers of his father and his mother Jon thought as he watched Aegon speak.

"I acknowledge your council and accept but I believe you are wrong" the prince said very calmly.

"There are five thousand men in our company and each are more important than I" Jon was taken aback by that statement.

"Yes I admit that I am a prince and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, but I am still just a man" a smile suddenly appeared on Aegon's lips as he continued to speak.

"I am not better than any other man here. We are all equals and each of us has something to loose if we fail"

_Where is this coming from?_ Jon asked, _He is a prince of course he is better!_

"Your grace I don't understand your meaning? You speak as if you are a commoner!" Jon was baffled by the young prince and could not understand why he depicting himself in such a manner.

"Your grace, you are the prince of the Seven Kingdoms; the rightful heir to the Iron Throne" the old knight could feel his temper slowly rising. He was not angry at the prince but he was lost and confused.

"Fire and blood flow through your veins. You have every right to rule!" angry flashed in the young prince's eyes. Something Jon had said had infuriated the boy and the old griffin could see it.

"I have no right!" the boy yelled as he suddenly rose to his feet and looked down up his mentor and protector.

"I have no right to the Iron Throne! If people start saying that of me then I am no better than any of these would-be-kings!" Jon refused to stand for this. He met his grace eye to eye when he stood. The boy and the old knight were of a height but Jon still stood a few inches taller than Aegon.

"But you are the king!" Jon roared.

"I am a stranger" Aegon said as he lowered his voice.

Tension rose in the room as the lord and prince yelled at one another. Only the loyal duck appeared calm as he watched the dragon and the griffin face off against one another.

"Thousands believed me dead and many still do. To the realm I am nothing more than a puppet on a banished lord's string!" Jon finally knew where Aegon was going with his words. He would push the lord into letting him lead the assault on Storm's End but Lord Connington would not hear of such things.

"So you mean to prove to the realm that you are Aegon Targaryen but conquering the usurpers homeland. This course will be your downfall" Lord Connington would have continued his lecture but when the griffin watched Aegon take a deep breath and calm himself the old knight knew he should follow suit.

"No, that was never my intention" Aegon's face became a complicated combination of wisdom and patience when spoke.

"Fire and blood are the words of my house and those were the very words that helped conquer and forged the Seven Kingdoms" Aegon broke off his gaze from Lord Connington and approached the map of the Seven Kingdoms that hung above Lord Connington's fire pit.

The prince gazed at the map and slowly became entranced by it. Jon patiently waited for Aegon to return to him but the young prince couldn't pull his eyes off the portrait. Duck, Aegon's loyal kingsguard slowly approached the prince and touched his shoulder. Aegon appeared startled by Duck's touch but Aegon quickly regained his composure.

His grace faced the griffin once again and spoke very calmly, as if he were speaking to a beast that would sooner kill him than listen. "The realm has bled for far too long Lord Connington," Aegon said as he slowly approached Jon "and I refuse to let it continue. My reason's for leading the assault on Storm's End has nothing to do with glory or honor" Aegon looked down at the map that Lord Connington had placed on his table. It was a map of the Storm's End and its surrounding area's.

"I refuse to let the realm bleed anymore. I will win back the throne of my father's father but I will not do it by smearing the blood of the innocent" Jon suddenly saw Aegon as a child again.

_The little fool_, the old knight told himself as he looked at Aegon.

_He actually believes that he can win this war without bloodshed but he is wrong. Only fire and blood can prevail here, not a child's foolish dream. _Jon Connington took a deep breath and slowly let the air in his chest out.

"Your grace how do we take a castle without spilling blood?" Jon asked believing he had somehow tricked the boy into admitting he was wrong.

"By going around and below and," Aegon said as he placed the tip of his index n the edge of Storm's End and on the ocean "by walking through the front door" confusion and headaches seemed to be the only response Lord Connington would receive from his prince this day and Aegon could see Connington's frustration building up.

"Allow me to elaborate then" Aegon said as he drew the dagger at his belt and drove its tip into the map, much to Jon's frustration, but the old knight held his tongue and allowed Aegon to speak.

"Below the cliff of Storm's End is a hidden passage that leads to an underground harbor and above that is the castle. We could sneak one hundred men into the castle and take it before day break" Aegon's plan was interesting, Lord Connington had to admit that much, but the boy was wrong. That underground passage would be bard and locked from the inside. Without those gates open their men would be smashed against the rocks. That was another problem as well. The shore of Storm's End would slash and crush any ship that came near it.

_Only Lord Onion was able to make his way through those rocks, but he's not the only smuggler in the realm_, the more Lord Connington thought about it the more he liked Aegon's plan, however there was still a matter of the gate and acquiring a smuggler for the voyage.

"What of the gate's below your grace? Surly you most know of them" and Aegon did know of them. Aegon went on to explain to Jon that he had ordered Lysono Maar, the company spymaster, to deploy his mummers into the Stormland's and after two days the company received a message from Storm's End.

"I have the letter here with me if you would like to read it" Aegon pulled the envelope from a hidden pocket inside his shirt and placed it in lord Connington's right hand. The old lord quickly pulled his hand away hoping to spare his prince the curse of the gray. Jon quickly opened the letter and began to read, but the words were scribbled in the foreign tongue of high Valyrian. It took Jon a while to decode the message and then read it.

The letter spoke of three men infiltrating the castle and that each transformed themselves into commoners, who were coming to enjoy the feast that was being held in King Tommen's honor and to celebrate and plentiful harvest.

The writer went on to specify that Storm's End had abandoned King Stannis, in return for him abandoning them, and surrendered to the crown in exchange for peace and gold. That had dashed Lord Connington's hopes of luting Storm's End vault for their army, but as the old lord read on he realized that there was another prize waiting for him at the castle. The three noble house Dondarrion, Foote of Nightsong, and Swann were holding the feast and an invitation was issued to welcome all guests to the banquet, lords and commoner's alike, and with their entry to the castle everyone was ordered to bring their yearly tax.

_What mummers these lords are, _the old griffin told himself as he looked the letter over again. _The crown is truly desperate for gold and food if they are issuing new taxes._

"Is this your plan then? You're going to sneak in a few men dressed as commoners and have them take the castle" Lord Connington could see the pride emanating in Aegon's eyes and he could understand why. Instead of taking the castle by storm and with blood the Golden Company would sneak in and take the castle by surprise. Not only would the castle fall but Aegon would gain hostages, gold, and food for his cause. It would be bold plan, a dangerous one, but if it was to work it would save the company a great deal of men and it would win Aegon the Stormland's.

In six days Aegon ordered a single ship with one hundred men set sail from Griffin's Roost and make way for Shipwreck bay, and in four days Aegon dawned his dragon armor and lead three thousand spears to Strom's End.

Rain and sleet had slowed the company and there horse but on the fourth day the Golden Company fell upon Storm's End, like a fabled storm, and took the castle in one fell swoop.

The lords and ladies of the castle were corned and taken as hostages; the men at arms were forced into chains or died at sword point. The spoils of war were taken by the company and shared among those who were left to freeze outside the castle.

In ten days Aegon did something no man had ever done, he took Storm's End; he took the Stormland's and he lived to tell his tale. The boy was dead and the man was born. Jon knew this but the old knight knew one victory did not make a man conquer. His grace still had much to do, much and more, and only when his grace has taken the Iron Throne will the knight finally be at peace.

On the fourteenth day, at sunrise, Lord Connington was requested to meet his grace in the castle's solar. Jon Connington quickly dressed in the colors his house, a red and white jerkin, worn over a silver doblete, with red trousers to cover his legs. Lord Connginton looked like a lord again, but the clothes felt uncomfterable with his sword belt and dagger belted at his side.

After climbing so many stairs Lord Connington finally reached his graces chambers and was greeted by Ser Rolly Duckfield at the door.

"My lord" Ser Duckfield inclined his head and placed his arm across his chest as he bowed to Lord Connington "His grace awaits you in his chambers. You may enter" Rolly Duckfiled said as he opened the door for Jon. Jon thanked Ser Duckfield and entered Aegon's royal chambers and found his grace standing by a table piled with maps, papers, and scrolls. A cup and a golden pitcher were in the prince's hands and the lord of Griffins Roost watched his lord pour himself a single cup of water. To many this action would seem normal or pointless but to Jon it meant something more.

_The boy is dead and he is gone left behind upon the Shy Maid. Now stands before me a true Targaryen Prince, the rightful ruler and heir to the Iron Throne, _the old knight felt nothing but pride for the boy at that moment but then the old griffin felt sad.

_Those days are gone and the boy is dead_, he told himself as he looked at Aegon.

Old memories began to surround the old knight as he began to recall each day he had spent with Aegon, not the prince of the Seven Kingdoms, but his son young Griff; the son who had come to love as his own. Ever since the boy could walk Jon had trained, tutored him, and guided the prince down what he believed to be the right path. Once, Jon Connington had doubted what he was doing but after everything Aegon had accomplished, from taking Storm's End to pouring himself a cup of water, the old lord knew he had done right by Prince Rhaegar's son.

That boy was dead however and all that remained was a prince. Jon would miss that boy more than anything. Even though they were not of the same flesh there was still a bond between the two of them, the young dragon and the old griffin, but as Jon told himself before those days were gone and young Griff was dead. Lord Connington cleared his throat as he lowered himself down on to one knee. "Your grace has summoned me" Jon said as he listened to Aegon place his cup upon his table and help Lord Connington to his feet.

"Thank you for coming and yes I am in need of your council" Aegon had gestured for Lord Connington to join him at his table but as the old griffin approached Aegon's table he noticed that his prince was only drinking lesser wine and had had black bread and a bowl of brown to break his fast.

"Your grace, I could have something of better quality brought to your chambers" Jon inspected the food, neither bread or bowl were spoiled and its preparation appeared somewhat similar to military provisions. "I am at peace with what I have. The heavier foods doesn't settle well with me," Aegon said as he put his cold cup down upon a small table and drew his foster father's attention to a map of southern Westero's "and ignore that for now we need to make preparations for our next advancement" lord griffin noted Aegon's eagerness and ferocity as he spoke.

"Our scouts have informed me that a few of castle men-at-arms still elude us and Balaq warned me that a raven is missing from the Maester's courters" Aegon did not sound pleased of that but his anger did not show. Jon began to reflect on his advancement into the castle, it was utter chaos at Storm's End, none of the castle lords had intended an attack and all their men were taken by surprise. No one had time to so much as notch a bowstring or draw their swords and that alone had secured the Golden Companies hold of the castle, but a mistake had been made and Lord Connington would rectify that mistake.

"Your grace, it would be my honor to tack these men down. I will assemble a" Jon Connington was cut off by Aegon as he raised his hand as if to keep Jon from moving forward.

"At ease my friend, I am pleased to see that you are willing to help but as of now I need words not swords. Please come and look at this" Aegon extended his courtesies to lord Connington by offering him to stand by him as they overlooked the map.

"Our site is an ideal one, just as you predicted, our forces have the advantage by sea and by land. The gold we found in the vaults is more than we had ever predicted and we have food to last an eight year winter, but I fear it won't be enough" Jon glanced at the map and took note of the map and stone figures that were placed upon the map. There were red roses, golden skull's, orange spears, and golden stages stacked all across the map. By tradition each figure would represent an enemy force and by the position of each figure Lord Connington could see that their army was surrounded.

"Our scouts and spies have been at work since our landing and their news troubles me my lord. We have enemies all around us and have too many unknown variables" Aegon reached for two of the golden stags and placed one on the outskirts of Nightsong and the second on Blackhaven, both stood hundreds of leagues south-west of Storm's End and west of Crow's Nest.

"Crow's Nest informs us that four hundred men-at-arms marches towards them waving the lightning bolt of house Dondarrion and behind them marches the two swans of house Swann, and they stand five hundred strong" Aegon said as he picked up a third golden stage and began to look into his dark golden eyes.

_Dark wings, dark words. His grace finally understands that he cannot save all his men from bloodshed_, Lord Connington began to pity his prince again. Prince Aegon had believed he could wing his war without shedding blood but now he understands that he has no choice.

"And to the west march's Lord Foote's men, we have yet to receive any word of their numbers, but like the others they march to Storm's End to save their beloved lords" Aegon placed the third stag on the outskirts of Bronzegate.

"Before long the Lord of Tarth will set sail to save his Knight's and niece and the Bucklers will march to save their Lord and Lady. I have no doubt that our men at Crow's Nest can withstand the attack but I have doubt's on their provisions" Aegon placed his elbows on the oaken table and began to stare at the many castles and villages that were surrounding his new castle.

"However, there are better words to fall back on. Lysson informs me that Mistwood has fallen to Caspor Hill and Deny Strong. That puts nearly one thousand men in the south and far beyond our aid and council" Aegon said as he placed to golden skulls on the southern coast of the Stormland's.

"I can assure you, your grace, even at great lengths and distances, the Golden Company knows of their duties" Lord Connington had hoped to take some of the weight off his prince's shoulder but he had failed.

"That's what worries me. At my behest and I have commanded each of our serjants to take each castle by any mean necessary but to leave the commoners alone. I believe that Caspor Hill and Deny Strong will act with honor and chivalries but frighten men do desperate things" Aegon stood once more and went for golden cup once more and took a small sip of his wine.

"Lord Connington my reason's for summoning you hear have to do more with the art of diplomacy than warfare" Aegon had begun to pour Lord Connington his own cup of wine while the griffin began to scratch his chin in frustration.

"I know this puts you in awkward position, as it did for many other men, when I sought their council" Aegon placed the cup by Lord Connington and took his seat once more, watching the old reach for the cup with his left hand and take minor sips.

"I would like to inform his grace that when it comes to diplomacy I am lacking in certain skills. Give me sword and I will take a castle for you but if you let me use my tongue I will surely falter" the griffin began to feel uneasy again and began to feel his temper rise as well, it was as if he were back in his solar at Griffins Roost yelling and arguing with Aegon about his war plans.

"I doubt that tremendously, you doubt yourself so often Lord Jon. Was it not you who won me the Golden Company all those years ago?" Aegon asked with a smile on his face, his polished white teeth flashing before him.

_That only happened because I was friends with the commander and I had help_, Jon was nothing short of a knight. He could fight, he could ride, and bolt arrows on a crossbow but the old lord could not negotiate. Lord Connington would have to refuse but he would never dare defy his graces commands.

"My lord I am asking a great deal of you I know, but I am asking for your help. If what I say conflicts with you I promise we will find another way" that's all Jon could ask for from Aegon but in the Aegon was demanding more of him than he could offer. The prince had devised a plan to meet each enemy force on the open field to parley and discuss terms of allegiance and surrender, if need be.

"On field I believe our men will win each battle five times over but I would prefer to conserve our soldiers and win these men to our sides" Aegon finished as he took another bite of his bread.

"Your grace, I believe these men will yield to you in time but not with gold and empty promises. We have hostages we could use them to make our foes bend the knee" Lord Connington refused to abandon the blunder of Storm's End to the traitors of house Targaryen.

"If we return the gold, food, and hostages we will lose our hold in this land" Jon began to pray for the Crone to give his prince wisdom and for the Warrior to harden his heart.

This is folly, I can't allow the prince to do this, Lord Connington told himself but before the lord could speak he watched Aegon pull four scrolls from beneath his map and place them before Lord Connington. The old lord took the gesture and began to read each scroll.

Each scroll was written by Aegon's hand and told lord Connington Aegon's terms of surrender and allegiance.

"Lord Connington, I told you once that I would not smear the blood of the innocent, that was not a lie" Aegon's tone suddenly became darker, colder than any winter Jon had felt before.

"I will return only a fraction of the gold and food to these men and only one hostage to each household in return for loyalty, fealty, and blood" Jon was starting to see a new side to Aegon, a side he never seen before.

"Five our most trusted Serjants will march out with two hundred men at there heel's. Each will meet with one of these companies and will return to them the food and gold they had brought to the banquet, as a sign of good will on our part" Lord Connington could see where his grace was leading this conversation.

"After the signing of the treaties a hostage will be returned three days hence, but if peace is met with blood then blood we shall be returning. The hostage will be hung, our enemies will be crushed, and we take back what is ours" Aegon placed his cup on the table as a wave of quilt washed over him.

"Do you believe that we will prevail, your grace?" Jon Connington had asked as he placed the last scroll on the table and looked his prince in the eye, those purple eyes that screamed with doubt, fear, and eagerness.

"I do" confidence suddenly beamed in Aegon's eyes as he stood.

"For far too long these lands have bled. Men have grown tired of war and each long for a strong ruler" Aegon approached the balcony that looked over ocean.

"Not a false one that abandons his faith and men to be ruled by a boy king and his mother. I am the blood of the dragon and I will guide my people" Aegon finally began to speak like a true Targaryen once again.

"If this is your wish then I will serve you until my dying breath" Lord Connington rose to his feet and kneeled before his future king. Again, Aegon ordered Jon to his feet and had a serious look upon his face. It was a stern and strong face and remained the same as he spoke "I ask for nothing more my loyal, but I have another task for you and it will not be an easy one" Jon knew he would not fail his prince and quickly bowed his he head and crossed his left arm across his chest.

"Speak and it shall be done" Jon said as Aegon extended a beautifully trimmed peace of paper into his left hand.

"Lord Connington, rightful hand of the king, I place before a great task that only you can meet. You will travel south with Lorimas Mudd, together you will treat with wit the two houses, Dondarrion Swann, and win them to our cause and after you will travel to marsh lands and treat with Dornish" that's when Jon look down at the paper and realized that Dorne had answered his call.

_ She comes by the Sea._

_ Wait and we will answer._

_ Dorne Remembers._

_ Prince Doran of House Martell. _

A map had been drawn beneath the letter and revealed where Lord Connington and House Martell would meet.

I will not fail the son, Lord Connington told himself as he squeezed his right hand into a fist and felt that he could no longer feel his right hand.

The gray was still spreading.

* * *

**Author Notes**: Hello everyone, I pray that everyone is having a fantastic day. I would like to take this time to say thank you for viewing the second chapter to **Falling Snow**, a story that I hope everyone enjoys. If you have glanced at my profile you may know that I have written for a while and that I love to write. One day I would love to become a famous writer and to share my imagination and creativity with the word, but I need practice to meet my dream. I feel like FanFiction . net can help me with my dream because it has given me an audience and it can help me practice. I want a reader's feedback on my writing style, my tone of voice, my grammar (I have horrible grammar), and my overall presentation. I would love your opinion on my writing.

Again have a fantastic day and have a Happy Halloween!


End file.
